Big, Bad Red
by Emorull
Summary: A fractured fairytale of Little Red Riding Hood featuring predominantly Dean :)
The werewolf quivers, sniffing the air while mentally berating itself over its earlier carelessness. How foolish it had been to eat that old lady, but how could he have known the old lady was a Winchester? He growls softly in frustration before slinking into the village, shedding his fur and claws for a more human look. How long tell a whole pack of Hunters fell on him like a pack of ravenous dogs looking for blood and vengeance with their weapons and tricks?

Dean grimaces, frowns, runs a habitual finger across the hard, fine edges of the clear crystal flask, and looks across the meadow as his brother, Sam, drives the cross in the ground over their grandmother's remains.

Dean clears his throat, and scratches his neck, "I'll hunt it down Sam, kay?" Sam turns his teary, red eyes towards him, "You stay here, you've got that family and kids and little domestic life you always wanted." Dean swallows, his eyes burn, so he wills an image of Sam's terribly decorated house to his mind, and takes a breath, "I'll take out the bastard who did this, so you can… Be at peace or whatever because your kids need you."

Sam stands there, stiff and angry for a moment before sighing and giving a short nod. "Jess asked you to do this?"

Dean shrugs, pushing his long, sandy hair back, "Yeah, but I was gonna say it anyway. You're a family guy, I'm not. This is my job, my life, killing these things so they don't hurt people like you. Even if I die, I'm alone, who's gonna get sad bout it but you?"

Sam frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets, "You don't ever think about having a little more in life? Not marriage or kids, just something, with someone, like another Hunter, someone who gets the life, so you aren't so… Alone?"

Dean merely smiles, "Oh come on, stop being so sappy on me, besides, the last chick who kissed me? Turned out to be a dragon trying to eat my face off."

Sam smiles faintly, "Well, maybe you'll have better luck in the future?"

Dean tries not to snigger as the werewolf tries to move all sneakily across the forest floor as the sun slowly creeps through the canopy. He raises his bow and silently pulls back and releases an arrow into the air that whistles before sinking into the soft part of the werewolf's knee.

It drops with a terrible screech, Dean leisurely makes his way over, brandishing his silver fighting knife. "So, you like eating old grannies?"

The werewolf nearly sneers at him, drawing his lips back to flash his maw of sharp teeth at Dean.

Dean laughs, and playfully pokes the werewolf's backside with the pointed end of his blade. "I'll take that as a yes, man, you are stupid though, killing a Winchester… Are you suicidal?" The werewolf just growls. Dean sighs, "So… As much fun as it is to chat and all, but I'm afraid you aren't a very good conversationalist, so, bye!"

Then a firm hand wraps around his wrist, "Excuse me, Mr. Winchester, but as the Treaty of Numin decrees, this werewolf must first receive a fair and unbiased trial." Dean looks backward into the blue, too serious eyes of a black haired elf with a very stern face.

"No, this bastard killed my Gran, your dumb Treaty can't stop me from chopping his head off." Dean snarls, trying to jerk his hand out of the elf's steely fingers, the elf holds on anyways for a bit, having superior strength, but then remembers human's like thinking they are strong or at least equal to others, and that humans certainly dislike being manhandled, and lets go.

Dean scowls.

The elf nods, and after a pointed glare from Dean, takes a step out of Dean's personal space. "Yes, section twenty-four, part b does insinuate vengeance for family to be a perfectly proper reason for bypassing the legal system of-"

"Yeah, so give me a moment." And with that Dean swings the blade down and separates the werewolf's head from his body. He stares at the twitching corpse that lays on the forest floor, watching the blood pour out in a steady stream.

The elf clears his throat. "Condolences."

"What?" Dean mumbles distractedly, poking the corpse's soft sides with his booted foot.

"Condolences." The elf repeats, placing an awkward, warm hand on Dean's shoulder, remembering that humans do that as a comforting movement. "I understand it is detrimental to the psyche to lose a loved one, therefore; I offer you condolences."

Dean laughs, "We're standing next to a corpse, you don't try to console next to a corpse."

The elf frowns, "I rarely meet Hunters unless there is a body in the vicinity."

Dean smiles. "Yeah?"

"You speak very informally." The elf comments slowly.

"It's a human thing," he assures him.

The elf nods, "I have noticed that humans speak informally frequently." His narrow blue eyes are contemplative, "I have imagined it is done to make humans feel more familiar with one another?"

Dean shrugs. "Sort of."

The elf nods, "I am heading to Caelus, there has been a coven of vampires attacking humans, this breaks the Dornberg Compact, would you come with?"

Dean frowns at him. "We just met."

The elf smiles lightly, with an amused look, "Yes, but this is your line of work, yes? Besides, I know Hunters work in pairs and you are alone. It would be far more efficient to have someone with me to handle the coven, and it would be safer and potential more pleasant for you to travel with me."

Dean stands there, staring at the shorter, black haired elf. After a bit he realizes that maybe all the logic the elf is using is just the elf's way of saying he's lonely and would like company, judging by the fact that the elf isn't even scolding him(Elves love to scold and nag and tell humans about their flaws) that Dean is on the right track.

"Yeah." The elf smiles, Dean smiles too.

Maybe this elf could be a little something; that someone Sam mentioned.


End file.
